


Distractions

by orphan_account



Series: When Wanda's Away [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Spoilers, F/M, Feels, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Short One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-15
Updated: 2016-05-15
Packaged: 2018-06-08 12:29:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6854659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Vision wasn't built to feel things. Vision wasn't built to be distracted.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Distractions

Vision was not built to feel things. He was not built to be persuaded by sadness and anger and longing. He was not built to be distracted.  
Yet here he was.  
It was hard holding Wanda in his arms after the fight. It felt like a rope was strung beneath his skin, running from his temple to his toes, and she was the only thing that kept the rope from snapping. This wasn't meant to happen. He wasn't programmed for this. It didn't make sense. Every time he was near her, it was as if every atom of his body was melting through the floor, and every time he tried to speak, something latched around his throat and held back the words. Whenever she touched him, something swirled where his heart would be.  
If this was what love was supposed to be, Vision didn't want it.  
Because this love was distracting. Distracting enough that when Rhodey was falling, Vision didn't automatically compute his speed and the distance to the ground. Vision didn't run to Mr. Stark and begin using every medical protocol that was hardwired into his brain.  
Vision held Wanda's hand as she passed out and Rhodey bled out.  
Rhodey didn't make it. Not entirely.  
\----  
Vision was not built to survive guilt.  
The most pain Vision had ever felt was when Wanda--Miss Maximoff--had forced his body into a solid form. Feeling pain for the first time, real, physical pain for the first time, Vision thought there could be nothing worse.  
Guilt was worse.  
Rhodey would never walk. Vision watched as Mr. Stark walked him back and forth across the same room every everyday for a week, and wondered if this was what desperation felt like.  
It was his fault. He was the robot that defaulted to love.  
This wasn't meant to happen.  
No more distractions.  
\----  
Vision was not built to survive loneliness.  
It was easy enough to avoid physical reminders of Miss Maximoff. Keep away from the kitchen, her room, the living room. Emotional reminders were harder.  
Everywhere Miss Maximoff had ever grazed--his arms, his hands, a light brush along his cheek--was burning. His eyes felt sore from not seeing her. A circle of emptiness opened up in the hollow of his chest.  
She was a distraction, even when she wasn't there. Vision had never felt so isolated in his life.  
It had once been difficult for Vision to understand why humans cared so much about being alone. Now he thought that perhaps he understood. It ate away at him. He could not stop seeing her in all the places she should be.  
It became a craving, to see her again. He began to visit the places he had seen her most.  
He had been at his lowest when he attempted to replicate one of his most treasured memories. He was near the kitchen, sitting on the couch where she used to sit next to him (exactly where he promised himself he would never be), the edges of his hole throbbing, when he burnt two servings of his attempt at the Russian dish. He threw the blackened dish into the garbage for the second time , the sharp feeling of melancholy deepening on his mind.  
Vision could not cry. But he found he wanted to. Maybe some of the darkness that pressed down on his shoulders could be released through his eyes. He fell to the floor next to the kitchen island, the mess spread across the counter and onto the floor. Vision didn't used to make messes.  
He stayed in that position all night. He didn't sleep; he couldn't dream. He waited there until soft waves of gray light filtered through the wide windows of Stark Tower.  
\----  
Vision was built to be strong. Vision was not strong.  
\----  
The cameras were easy enough to fool. It was like he was not even there.  
They tied Wanda up. Wrapped her into herself and gagged her mouth. Her eyes were laced with the dark circles that accompanied insomnia.  
She didn't turn to look at Vision as he sat next to her cell, though he knew she could sense him.  
Vision thought of everything he was going to say. Everything he could only say here, while she was behind glass bars.  
The words rose to his throat and stopped there.  
So he sat there, looking at her not looking at him, choking on the words he didn't know how to say.  
\----  
Vision could not look at Mr. Stark. He made it very easy for him. Mr. Stark only left his room to assist Rhodey. Vision couldn't watch him recover. He couldn't watch the sweat gather on Rhodey's face as he attempted to recover what Vision had stolen from him.  
He got distracted.  
Vision found that days slipped away without notice. There was nothing to mark the passing of time but the coming and going of the light.  
He tried visiting Wanda again. He didn't notice it was the middle of the night.  
Wanda was sleeping, in a word. Leaning against the wall in the exact same place and position she was in days ago when he visited her last. Her chest rose and fell too quickly for her to have been sleeping well. Her eyelashes flitted back and forth lightly across her face. Her cheeks were hollowed and, perhaps from the constant light, her skin was covered in a translucent layer of yellow.  
Vision didn't stay long.  
\----  
The next and last time Vision saw Wanda, she saw him. When he entered the room, it was like she was waiting for him. She followed him with her eyes as he came and sat down in front of her cell.  
He could almost reach out and touch her. His hand would go through the glass and metal and straight to her. He could free her and they might eventually heal enough that he could hear her laugh again, and the hole throbbing in his chest might eventually dim enough that he could carry on. He could be with her right now. Maybe it would fix everything.  
He didn't.  
Instead he pressed his hand against the glass and pretended she was pressing hers against his.  
She stared, unblinkingly, directly into his eyes.  
Vision didn't know how long they continued like that.  
He felt everything that had happened since Sokovia filling the space between them. The Wanda from a month ago compared to the Wanda now.  
It was his fault. She was here because of him. She was hurt because if him. Rhodey couldn't walk because of him. Vision couldn't save Pietro, he couldn't save Wanda, he couldn't save Tony. He couldn't even save himself.  
It was hard to swallow through it all, through everything that he was responsible for. The four in this room were here because of him.  
His voice cracked on the way out:  
"I'm sorry."  
He ran.  
\----  
Vision wasn't built to feel afraid.  
Two days later, Wanda escaped.  
At least when she was in the prison, he knew where she was. Now, Vision had no way of knowing whether she was dead or alive.  
Or in some horrible place in between.  
Vision wondered that if he stood still enough, he might be able to disappear.  
Wanda was gone. Vision was permanently weighted to the ground.


End file.
